


evermore

by dumbasserself



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Album: evermore (Taylor Swift), Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abusive Relationship, Inspired by Taylor Swift, M/M, The implied abusive relationship is not the main pairing!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28053255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbasserself/pseuds/dumbasserself
Summary: 15 minifics written to the evermore album, because I guess I'm feeling unmoored.Hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	evermore

**willow**

Nico was a surprise in many ways, although, in others, he wasn’t. Not really.

The surprise was mostly—recognizing him. Recognizing in him the type of friend he’d always needed and didn’t even know. Looking at him and being like, _oh, it’s him, that’s the one_.

And also, he was hot as fuck.

Sure, he looked like he was constantly trying to solve an equation – displeased, disgruntled, murderous, etc etc – but somehow that appealed to Will. Lou called it his ‘ _dysfunctional taste in men_ ’, with only Nico as an example she could give of it, so, shitty argument.

“I’m gonna date that boy so hard, you’ll see,” he said. Nico was in the arena, helping Jason demonstrate to the younger campers how to use their swords correctly while still looking cool, probably.

It was funny how Will’s heart stuttered at the sight. Here he was in shadow of a tree, too far from those people shining in the sun. Far away, it was easy to dream.

Still, he hoped.

**champagne problems**

“I think we’re ready.”

“We’re not ready.”

“Why _not_?! For real, why not?! Will we _ever_ be ready?”

“Look—”

“No! We’ll never be! No one’s ever ready for anythin’ and yet, we do it! Because we are members of the human race and thus we love art and death and _trying_!”

“Jesus, you’re too much.”

“ _Pleeeease_.”

“…”

“(Please.)”

“Okay. Fine. _Fine_ , let’s do this.”

“...For real?”

“...Yeah.”

“ _Yes_ , I love you so much—”

“But—!”

“…”

“I get to name the pup. I don’t trust your naming skills.”

“ _Rude_. Death Boy is a perfect nickname and I’ll stand by it.”

“I rest my case, then.”

“But for real?”

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

“Okay. Love you. And don’t worry—we’re ready.”

“...Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right.”

**gold rush**

Will Solace was too much. He was warmth, and the sun, and everything Nico never knew he loved until he could have it.

But he _couldn’t_ have it. He shouldn’t fall. Because it would never be his in the way he wanted—and the way he wanted was the way where they lived in a world of their own making, spoke a love language of their own and made every day a Saturday dream haze.

Will was too beautiful to ever need him like that, though. So it could never be. It would never be.

He couldn’t help wondering what it would be like, though. Watching Will under the sun was like watching a star come to life. His carefree smile, and every move he made was music in Nico’s mind.

_Don’t fall for this boy_ , he told himself, again and again.

But it was too late for that.

‘ **til the damn season**

The infirmary was too loud. Or rather, it was at the normal volume. Nico was the one who was irritated and needing distance from people. Again.

“You’re always like this,” Will reminded him, “So get better at identifying normal discomfort from capital-D Discomfort before wanting to leave for real.”

Ugh, Will was so annoying.

“Whatever you’re thinking about me, I’m gonna ignore it,” he said, not looking up from Nico’s arm injury.

Nico had forgotten how well known he was here – a ridiculous concept, yet here Will was, reading him as easily as any writer read their own books.

“How was the Underworld?” Will asked like he was making small talk. He supposed, in their lives, it was.

“Boring. Cold.”

“Hm.” A line appeared in Will’s brow as he focused on the stitches he was handling. “They’re serving stew tonight. Might be good, a warm meal and all.” He paused. “We’re glad to have you back, you know.”

Nico hadn’t been gone long enough that he couldn’t read that for what it was— _I’m glad to have you here_. And so, looking away from Will’s face, he offered a truth back.

“It’s good to be back here.”

Silently, he completed— _with you._

**tolerate it 1**

**__**_This is hell_.

Or maybe it was just life. Finding contentment and immediately questioning it and picking it apart; throwing blame on everyone except himself.

But Will wasn’t _content_.

His chest was a storm brewing most times, these days. The floor was eggshells and, was it really in his head that _he_ couldn’t see how careful he was being in every step? Will knew he tended to see things askew, but how wrong could he be? About this? About himself? He wasn’t happy. He was safe—now—but not happy. Was that important? Was there a difference? Will couldn’t remember.

_Leave_. It wasn’t the first time the thought came. But—but he wouldn’t be safe, nor happy, so. So. This was better. It was better this way.

**no body, no crime**

“Bitch,” he spat to the _empousa_ before impaling her.

Kayla probably would have something to say about his word choice, but that was a problem for another time. For now, he was content making dust out of the dumbass who had laid a finger on Nico’s beautiful self.

“Damn,” his boyfriend said, taking Will out of his angry reverie. “Those are some powerful anger issues you got there, doctor.”

_Doctor_. Hmpf. Nico was enjoying this way too much.

“Shut up.”

He was still scowling when he made his way to untie Nico—some imperial gold rope thing, the bastards—so Nico’s smile didn’t register.

“Thank you. My _hero_ ,” if Nico intended for sarcasm to seep into his voice, he failed.

“Let’s get out of here before we have a repeat performance, okay? You okay?”

“Oh, trust me, I’m more than okay.”

Will gave him a strange look. Nico truly _was_ enjoying this.

“We’ll talk about this later, alright?” He rested his hand on Nico’s shoulders, guiding him towards the way out. “We should go.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.”

God, Nico was so _weird_ sometimes.

**happiness**

“We could have done better, couldn’t we? With you. With everyone at camp.”

Percy was pensive, or maybe it was just the violent sea under their cliff. It echoed his thoughts, amplified everything.

“Couldn’t we all? Isn’t that the point? Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Nico replied after some thought. A small part of him found thrill in bouncing his legs at the edge of the cliff they were sitting on. It was good, that despite everything, this small act still awakened his body in fear and joy.

Percy took that in.

“Maybe,” he conceded.

“It wasn’t all bad,” Nico insisted, “and however bad— _everything_ continues to be, it won’t be all bad. You’ll see.” It was a rare display of optimism from him; he supposed it was easier to be like that when the ones around him were even graver than him. _That_ was rare.

Percy looked at him, looking for a lie. Nico just raised his eyebrows, quiet, almost at peace with the certainty of what he’d just said.

Eventually, Percy smiled.

“We’ll see,” and it sounded sure.

**dorothea**

The story of Will’s romantic life at camp was that he fell for his first friend here—a bouncy, happy, chatty boy—and never quite got over it.

The problem of this story was that, as it turned out, this boy was:

1\. from the 1930s;

2\. traumatized so badly as a kid that life at camp soon seemed intolerable, and;

3\. always running away.

Which was—well, not _fine_. But not an impossible situation to find a compromise for. Will had tried to move on, honest! But every time he thought, _hey, I got the hang of this! I’m doing fine!_ , there came Nico di Angelo and his beautiful curls, and his wrath, and his Underworld powers to open cracks in the structures of Will’s heart.

And despite what Lou and Cecil said, this three days at the infirmary thing was an actual medical decision. In all honesty, if Nico was anyone else—and if they weren’t jam-packed at the moment—Will would have assigned him a week under medical supervision. But since it was Nico, and he didn’t seem all that jazzed about the human contact and socialization thing, Will found a compromise. See? He _could_ compromise. If it was to make Nico stay, and to make Nico happy, he would find a way.

He just—hoped Nico knew that.

**coney island**

This was it, wasn’t it?

As if the Oracle itself, Nico could see their future stretching in time. Will, always trying new things to make Nico eat and Nico, not changing. Will, not opening up because he thought it, he, would be a burden. Will, not leaving because—because he didn’t think Nico could or should be alone. But wanting to leave all the same.

He couldn’t breathe with the realization that this was what life held for them.

And he wouldn’t do that to his sun.

It felt ridiculous by now, wanting to leave, _again_. Packing his bag with the clothes that were still folded from his last panic attack. But this was different. This was logic; it was the cold, natural progression of events. This was him seeing what was better for all of them, in the long run. Will might never understand; he might think he would be able to handle it, and he might, but he would never comprehend how much of his life he would be losing by Nico’s side.

Nico wasn’t sorry. Not for this. For not being more forthcoming. For the suddenness, maybe, but not for leaving. No, not for leaving.

He packed his bag.

**ivy**

Will might be in love.

It’s funny. He thought he knew what that was. When he’d looked at Nico and saw their life together, bathed in white light; when he’d made his playlist to capture the feeling of love in his heart—he thought that was it. But that barely compared to the fire that Nico set ablaze in him now.

Now, having Nico enter a room, or cupping his face with his icy fingers, was a hum of energy awakening in Will’s center. He’d never knew he could be this aware of another person and this—well— _happy_.

And it was his first real relationship, for both of them. A house of cards, in that way. Will wasn’t stupid enough to be under the illusion that first love always worked out. He’d learned romance in books and musicals, yeah, but he tried to be as realistic as possible. To take this slow and be careful and protect his heart.

But Nico would kiss him and the safe thing would be to sink in further, instead of building walls around his heart. I mean, it was _Nico_. It was his best friend. Even if _this_ —the kisses and hand holding and staring—didn’t work out, the love would still be there. They cared for each other. It wouldn’t hurt like he was imagining.

It was too late anyway, to protect himself like that.

**cowboy like me**

“Just don’t fall in love with me.”

“That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

Will might have spoken too soon.

On a logical level, he knew this must be the power of suggestion or whatever it was that New Age psychologists were saying these days. He held hands with Nico and smiled with him and told stories of their scuffles with a rosy tint, and his monkey brain took this to mean, ‘ _MATE_ ’. Dumb, since they were both as gay as they came.

Maybe it because there were no rules, no one else. Every day they would go out, pretend, and then come back into their little world, populated only by them. Wouldn’t everyone fall, too? It was human nature to make home out of a temporary space, family out of a friend.

And so, here he was, the idiot. Having to pretend inside their world so Nico wouldn’t see the way he wanted him.

_Just don’t fall in love with me_ , Nico had said, face so impassive and closed off that it was hard to imagine what loving him would even look like. But now it was easy.

**long story short**

He was overthinking the speech again.

_It’s too long_ , said… literally everybody. Well, he had lots of emotions, alright? And if he was going to kneel in front of his man and ask him to live with him until they died, then he had to make a good case for himself.

But it was too late by now. The sun was reaching the horizon, and if he chickened out, Nico would actually murder him for waking him up this early. It was either now or—

“Nico di Angelo,” he stood up, then cursed himself and knelt down.

Nico, who had looked annoyed and half-asleep—5AM was his least favorite time—now looked alert. The good kind, though. The good kind.

“Ever since I was a little kid—” Will began.

“Yes,” Nico croaked. His eyes glistened—a sight so strange that it took Will a moment to realize he was tearing up.

“...What.”

“Is this what I think—I’ll marry you. I love you so much, I would love to marry you.”

“For real?”

“One hundred percent real.”

His legs felt like jello when he stood up, but Nico was there to embrace him, so it was okay.

“You didn’t even hear my speech,” Will said at some point, when his brain could form words again.

“There was no need.” Honestly, he had never heard Nico sounding so soft. “And no offense, but your speeches are too long.”

Will groaned. “God, shut up, they’re _not_. Hmpf, I don’t wanna marry you anymore.”

The part of his brain that was high from the sudden anxiety drop—so, most of it—pointed out that that was a terrible thing to say to your _fiancé_. God, Will was the luckiest.

“Wait, that’s not true,” he hurried to amend before Nico came to his senses and realized all the ways marriage shouldn’t be on the table anymore, despite their extensive talks on the matter. “Really, ever since I was a little kid—“

“Oh _God_.”

**marjorie**

You never think you’re gonna lose everyone in your world when you’re a kid. Cause if he knew it was a possibility, he would have—found a way to take her photograph, to record her voice; to register the minute expressions on her face.

Because right now he could remember what love for him looked like on her face, but for how long? When he recalled her laugh, was it right?

_She’ll always be alive as long as we remember her_ , Chiron had said, which sounded like bull coming from him, but he could believe it when Mr D and Will echoed that sentiment. So.

“I’ll always remember you,” he whispered, feeling stupid for saying it out loud, “Even if I forget, I’ll always know—I’ll always know you were here and that I love you.” He didn’t think this made sense, but if the person this was for was listening, then she would probably understand what he meant. She’d known him very well.

“I love you,” he whispered, and in the remaining silence of the room, he hoped she could hear him.

**closure**

“I think you should eat the pudding.”

“I will not eat the pudding.”

“It’s good, though.”

“It’s _weird_. What kind of—messed up person would do _this_ with bread? Like that? Huh? It’s insanity! It’s humanity crazed and out of its axis.”

“I know America is not the best, but I think you’re exaggerating.”

Nico maintained eye contact while he picked the plastic plate and threw it in the trash.

“Okay. So that’s how it is.”

“Yeah,” he jutted out his chin. “That’s how it is.”

“Cook for us, then. Show us how it’s done.”

“Maybe I will. This camp has gone past the point where something like that would be acceptable—“

He kept on ranting, angry enough about this inconsequential thing that he missed Will’s smile. It was just—Will felt like Nico saw camp, or at least, its people, as one home he could have. Maybe this was the moment he closed the chapter of his life in which he believed he was alone, and started living the chapter where he knew he had family still.

Maybe it was selfish, to be so glad, _relieved_ , about Nico staying, but if Nico was happy about it—even if he was pretty worked up right now—then Will couldn’t be happier about it.

**evermore**

**__**_Everything is temporary_. These were Will’s words; the ones he would repeat to himself as the absolute truth he knew even when he lost sense of all else. _Temporary. Everything is temporary_.

So the pit in Nico’s stomach—that would pass too. And the way his eyes hurt because he hadn’t slept for some nights now—that would pass. And the way he wanted to cry at the absolute, empty silence of 3 am, but couldn’t because his body was broken—that would pass.

“It will pass,” he whispered to himself. He wasn’t even sure he was alive.

“It will,” the gentle voice of his sun said beside him, taking his hand in his and squeezing.

“Didn’t see you,” he whispered.

“Just got here.”

And Nico leaned into him, because he’d learned it was okay to do so, and he repeated Will’s truth to himself. _You can use my truth until you find your own_ , Will had told him. So he didn’t know anything, other than it would pass. It would pass.

**Author's Note:**

>   1. Based on a past relationship portrayed in this [fanfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661437/chapters/8092065)! [ ▲ ]
> 

> 
> I know the 'closure' minific doesn't resemble the story told in the song much, but listening to it, the passive-aggressiveness was what stood out to me the most while writing, haha
> 
> Finally, a million thanks to [the guide on linked footnotes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20192773) by Vigs! Can't stress this enough: lifesaver!


End file.
